Brave the Night: Bully Boys, #2

By Cassandra Moore

The Bully Boys are the only defense Coyote Trail has. Part bikers, part paladins, the modern-day wolf pack on wheels is dedicated to protecting humans from the swarms of savage shapeshifters who roam the deserts. Called Ferals, these once-human abominations threaten to inflict any pockets of civilization with a highly virulent plague turns good people into mutated beasts.

 

Shane Lawson, alpha werewolf of the Bully Boys pack, has sworn to avoid love as much as he'd avoid the Beast Plague itself. The worldwide epidemic has already cost him everything he held dear - his lover, his best friend, and his brother. Better to run himself into the ground eradicating Ferals than to chance another scar on his already battered heart.

 

Mechanic Erin Calloway left the relative safety of the Midwest to find a new life in Coyote Trail. The Bully Boys need a solid wrench to keep their rides in Feral-hunting order, and Erin needs a fresh start to drive away the ghosts of tragedy that haunt her. She expects ridiculous temperatures and herds of cactus. She could never foresee a gorgeous werewolf with broad shoulders and familiar ghosts to plague him.

 

Her sunny humor and soulful strength make Shane want to violate his vow and put his heart on the line. His deep integrity and wolf's bravery challenge her to reach for a love she's never felt before. But when the plague that threatens civilization hits too close to home, Shane and Erin must both fight to save what matters to them most - each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cassandra Moore
• Release date: Apr 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201962982

Book preview

1

Heart Out of Service, Sorry For the Inconvenience

A nita, I don’t want to tell you how to run your business, but you might want to look into a repairman for your soda machine along with that new mechanic.

The Out of Service sign fluttered from the front of the vending machine, tethered by a single strip of clear tape and determined to slip its bonds every time a nearby door opened. Two weeks of attempts hadn’t bought anything but a small tear in the paper next to where the tape held fast. That, and a fine layer of desert dust adhered by the film of oily particles prevalent in all auto repair shops.

Shane pocketed his change. That sign would fit right in dangling from his forehead as a warning about his recent life. Out of service and worse for the wear, and now, thirsty to boot. The mighty alpha of the heroic Bully Boys pack brought low by heartbreak and defeated by a soda machine.

As ever, friends saved him. He could hear Anita chuckling before she poked her head around the corner and beckoned for him to follow. Come on. I’ve got a secret stash of sodas in my office fridge. One’s got your name on it.

Thank fuck. It’s hotter than hell out there today. Shane gave the sign one more glance before he followed his friend into the back.

Anita had thrown herself into cleaning up Calderon Auto once the courts had cleared her to do so, but Shane wouldn’t have known that from the state of the back office. Piles of documents slouched across every flat surface, many rumpled and tattered like paper veterans of a brutal bureaucratic war. A cardboard filing box squatted atop the miniature fridge in the corner, a patient vulture waiting for the invoice soldiers to fall into their file-shaped graves.

The soda machine works fine, as it happens, she said as she closed the door behind them. It’s just empty.

For two weeks? He half expected to see paperwork in the refrigerator when she opened it. Instead, he only found cans of generic, store-brand cola and half a sandwich.

And probably longer. Delivery trucks aren’t showing up anymore. Not on schedule, anyway. Cola okay?

It’s great, thanks. What’s up with the trucks?

I called the company. They said there were ‘problems on the supply route’ and they ‘weren’t sure if or when normal service would resume’. They had nothing else to say. When I went to pick these sodas up, the cashier said it’s a problem cropping up all over town. Started not long ago.

Mm. Sounds like someone ought to look into that.

Your name ‘Someone’?

I’ve been known to answer to that. No one’s said anything to me yet about trouble on the roads, but that’s only a matter of time. Better to get on top of it beforehand. Rigo and Holly can make a few sweeps. See if they dig up Feral trouble, or just more assholes looking to capitalize on a shitty situation. Like the hospital supply companies when the Beast Plague first hit.

She wrinkled her nose. Wish I could forget that.

Don’t we all. I’ll give a shout to the alphas in the nearby towns, too. See if anyone else has heard anything.

Thanks, Shane.

Sure. He looked around the room. You’re fighting the good fight back here. Are you winning?

I think so? She didn’t sound sure of her answer. Lou was as half-assed and shady about his paperwork as he was about everything else he did. I’ve been trying to reconcile accounts, figure out who’s paid what, who paid bills twice or not at all, who Lou was giving ‘special breaks’ to for reasons I wish I didn’t know…

She looked green around the gills. He took the offered can from her and touched her hand as he did. How bad is what you’ve found?

Worse than either of us expected. I haven’t put together the whole story yet, but I’m getting the idea he’d create business for himself on slow months. Sabotaged cars. Oversold work to old ladies who didn’t know better. She leaned down to grab a soda for herself, but she sounded as nauseated as she must have looked. And for women he liked the look of, he didn’t charge money. Before Nicole came into the picture, Lou had a whole string of side pieces.

Nicole. A month after discovering both her infidelity and the depths of her maliciousness, her name still felt like a hot spike shoved into Shane’s gut. Bad enough to discover his lover and his best friend Lou had carried on behind his back. Even more painful for Shane to discover his girlfriend had tried to murder Jake, one of Shane’s packmates, and Anita. She’d iced that shit cake by throwing Shane to the literal beasts for killing.

Nicole had given over his address to the leader of the Ferals, the mutated, ravenous shapeshifters out to take down humanity. They’d tried to kill both Anita and her werewolf lover Jake, and when they’d failed, they’d come after Shane instead. Success would have left Coyote Trail without its protectors. The Ferals would have had free rein to devour and infect anyone they chose. Lou would have served as the liaison between men and Ferals, with Nicole as his blood-soaked queen.

Because of Shane, in a way. Or so the guilt that crept into his mind in the darkest hours of the night whispered to him. Because you didn’t love her like she deserved, no matter how much you tried. Because you tried to take care of her, like you promised your brother you would, but it wasn’t enough to save her. If you hadn’t failed, would she have had to run around on you, or wanted to take out Anita to remove Lou’s wife from the picture? Would Greg have managed what you couldn’t do?

Guilt lied. Late on lonely nights, he listened anyway. Just like he’d listened to Nicole’s lies and ignored all the red flags waving around her behaviors.

Wonder if Nicole knew, he said, as casual as he could manage, and popped the top on the soda can. Or if she enjoyed knowing she’d convinced Lou to ditch all his side pieces for her instead. I’m so sorry, Anita. You deserve better than any of this.

So do you. And so did your brother. She opened her own cola. Nicole never showed this side of her when she was with him?

Greg had his concerns. Nicole was always troubled. He thought maybe, if someone finally loved her enough and supported her like she deserved, she might overcome what happened in the past. Shane tried to wash the bad taste out of his mouth with a long pull from his drink. It helped, a little.

That’s the kind of optimism that got me into trouble. Anita walked around to the front of the desk so she could lean against the edge of it while she drank. Lou’s just a bad boy, I said. My love and the determination in my heart will set him straight, I said. What a bunch of horseshit.

The very horsiest. Shane shook his head. But it came out all right for you, Anita. You’ve got Jake now. Maybe a bad boy, but also a good man who won’t ever do you wrong.

A muted stab of jealousy panged in his chest when he saw Anita’s eyes light up at Jake’s name. The best kind of jealousy, Shane decided, the sort that said his friends had found happiness together and that everyone should want a little of that for themselves. Perhaps that jealousy hurt him a little more, given his situation, but not enough that he wouldn’t seek it out again and again to watch his friends’ love grow.

I know, she said, cheeks pink with the ghost of a blush. Never thought I’d say that. After Lou, I can’t say as I thought I’d ever trust a man again. Not like that. But I do. You’ll find the same, Shane, I know you will.

He tried not to choke on his soda. Let’s not go there. I’ve never been any good with relationships. If the wolf in me doesn’t scare them off, the long hours I spend in danger do. Or the bike grease bothers them. Or having the pack around all the time puts them off… Greg was the one the women wanted. I thought Nicole and I might be able to build something, but we were lying to ourselves.

Lying. Pretending. Tormenting each other with what they couldn’t have while they tried to convince themselves they wanted what they did have. Greg. We both wanted Greg back, any piece of him we could dredge up out of the past. She wanted his love. I wanted—

His brother back? To be his brother, or more like him? To ensure what his brother cared about would remain safe? Shane had never given that enough thought. And it shows right about now, doesn’t it.

There are more people than Nicole, Anita said, and pinned him with her gaze. No wonder Jake loved her. She had a mighty will in her that no one could escape the brunt of.

There are. I’m just taking life as it comes and not looking for trouble. Plenty comes looking for me. He took another drink of soda. It was better than telling her that he didn’t know what he had to offer a mate anyway. You didn’t call me to talk about the disaster I call a love life.

No, that’s just an added benefit. She smirked at him.

He stared at her over the can. You’re a true friend, Anita. The kind that sticks with you no matter what. Kind of like herpes.

Laughter bubbled out of her. Best kind of friend to be. All right, fine, I didn’t call you to tell you someone wanted to set you up with Holly.

Now he did choke. Bubbles fizzed in his nostrils as he fought to keep the soda from exploding out his nose. It took him a moment to gasp out, "Who the fuck thought that would be a good idea?"

I promised them I wouldn’t say. Then I told them that was a damn fool idea. Her smile said she took great delight in dropping that particular bomb on him. I asked you to come by because it’s always nice to ask for a favor in person. Maybe with a soda to wash around in your sinuses.

Shane coughed and tried to convince his voice box to produce sound. Another drink of soda, down the correct pipe this time, helped. What would I do without friends like you?

You’d go through the rest of your day without the whole world smelling like cheap cola. Where would the fun be in that?

No fun at all. He coughed one last time to encourage his throat to work right. What do you need, Anita? You know I’d do damn near anything for you, even if I didn’t owe you my life.

You don’t owe me shit. Anita smiled at him, warm and genuine. But it would be terrific if I could borrow a Bully to go pick up my new mechanic.

Finally found the perfect mix between ‘has the skills’ and ‘willing to live in Fuckall, Arizona’, did you? Not an easy balance to strike, he knew. He’d spent enough time in the employment lists with her to have seen the challenge for himself.

I did. Good references, an impressive portfolio of rebuild work, and willing to hop on a bus the day we inked the deal.

Shane frowned. Sounds like he’s running away from some trouble.

She. And I get the idea she’s looking for a new start. I didn’t press, but it sounds like life’s been a little hard on her lately.

Sounds familiar.

I thought it might. Her background check came up clean, though, and she didn’t care that we live in the ass end of nowhere. Didn’t argue about the offer I made, either, even though I lowballed her so I’d have room for negotiation. Anita winced with guilt.

You’re going to fix that?

I’m just going to raise her pay rate and not take ‘no’ for an answer. The only thing she did ask about was a place to stay until she earned enough paychecks for a deposit on her own. I cleaned up Lou’s little bedroom here at the garage. She can crash here as long as she needs.

Shane quirked his lips. I’ll ask around the pack, too. Everyone will want to come introduce themselves anyway. One of them might decide they’d like a roommate, temporary or otherwise.

Thanks. Her bus arrives in Kingman tomorrow. Unfortunately, I already have an appointment with my lawyer, or I’d go myself, and Jake’s meeting the real estate agent to go through my old house with her. I’m trying to get it on the market, what little market there is.

Not a problem. You suppose I need to send Travis with the truck? He reconsidered as soon as he said it. Though I guess if she’s on a bus, she doesn’t have much with her.

Two bags, she said. If someone’s got a sidecar, that should do it. I would have ordered her a cab, but most of the companies won’t send people out this far anymore. Not enough business to justify the danger.

No cabs. Delivery trucks aren’t showing up. I don’t think I care for this trend. I’ll talk to the pack about it when we next get together. Nah, I’d rather we go get her. She ought to know the Bully Boys are here for her. Tell her we’ll be there. Tyler’s got that Russian bike with the sidecar that should do just fine, and I’ll send Levi with him. They can hold up a sign with her name on it and all.

I knew I could count on you. Anita smiled again as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to send a text message. I’ll let her know. She said she was on a pay-as-you-go phone with limited texts left, so I might not hear back from her.

We’ll make the sign obvious, then, just in case the text doesn’t go through. What’s the name we need to put on it?

Erin. Erin Calloway.

2

Bad Luck is an Impatient Vulture With an Eating Disorder

Within five minutes of stepping off the bus, Erin Calloway had collected a layer of gritty desert dirt that made her feel like a walking sheet of sandpaper. This on top of the strata of sweat, travel grime, and unidentifiable bus gunk she didn’t care to think too hard about. After ten minutes of waiting for the luggage compartment to disgorge the larger of her bags, she branded herself filthy, which she didn’t even do after a day spent under cars with leaky oil pans.

The state of the bus station bathroom didn’t encourage her, but she dutifully splashed her hands and face with the lukewarm water that poured out of the tap marked cold. Only after the water started to drip off her chin and down her neck did she discover the washroom had no paper towels stocked in the dispenser. It did have a forced air dryer on the wall, nozzle stuck in the down position, and no one else in the room.

She exited the bathroom with a layer of gritty desert dirt forcibly stuck to her by a miniature sandblaster and a terrific new hairdo. Her dignity, she left behind, if it had made the two-day trip with her at all.

Kingman, Arizona had its share of dirt to carry with her. Plain dirt. Dirt dotted with cacti and scrubby bushes she didn’t know the name for. Dirt piled up into mountains off in the distance, masquerading as rocks. Dirt heaped into tall berms around the edges of the little town as makeshift barricades against the Ferals she heard roamed the deserts. Hope Coyote Trail’s werewolves are better than dirt mounds for protection, because I don’t think those piles out there do jack shit.

Which reminded her. Kingman had dirt. It didn’t have werewolves holding signs.

Tired but glad to stretch her legs, she did a lap around the bus terminal to see if she’d missed the bikers her new boss had mentioned in the text message. Nothing. No non-wolf people holding signs, or people standing about to pick up new arrivals. The clock on the dingy wall said the bus had arrived about half an hour late, not early, but Coyote Trail was at least an hour of driving away. Her rides might have left late or run into a slow pack of tumbleweeds holding up traffic.

She pulled her cheap phone out of her pocket and tried the power switch. Not even a flicker. It had lost charge two towns ago. The charger cable she’d loaned to a young man on the bus had never come back to her. Even if it did have battery life, I don’t have any minutes left to call Anita to ask about my ride. Though I can’t see her number if I can’t turn my phone on. Did I write it down anywhere? Maybe the guys are waiting outside.

A wall of heat hit her as the bus terminal doors opened. Heat like a furnace, powerful enough to have its own weight. It closed around her like a fist of fire, reflecting up from the cracked concrete and bearing down from the burning star in the sky. Everyone knew deserts had high temperature. No one warned her that the heat had a presence of its own that scoured the color from the landscape and stole breath from the lungs.

Several white sedans dotted the parking lot, as did a couple trucks and one old sportscar with a tattered ragtop. No motorcycles. Definitely not one with a sidecar, and no sign-bearing werewolves in leather. She groaned. I hope they didn’t leave because the bus was late. Did I tell Anita the right day? I’m pretty sure I told her the right day… Is it Tuesday? It has to be Tuesday. Please, God, let it be Tuesday, and let me not be the idiot here. All I want is a shower with real soap. Or water. No, I’ll just open my mouth and let the water from my shower fall in. Just the shower would be fine.

No taxis, either. Not that she had the money for one. She spotted a diner across the street and her stomach rumbled. Not that I have the money for that, either. Maybe if I can scrape up enough for a soda, they’ll let me use a booth to sort through my backpack for Anita’s number. And their phone. Fuck, I hope Anita didn’t forget. Please do not let me have come halfway across the country to work for a flake.

Like she had anywhere else to be now. Even a job for a flake who left her stranded at a bus terminal was an improvement over the empty life she’d hopped on the bus to drive away from.

You’d be laughing at me by now, wouldn’t you, Meg. You can’t leave me alone for a minute before I’ve gotten myself into a strange situation. Not a minute. Not a month. Not five months and sixteen days.

Erin tossed the strap of her ugly old duffel bag over the padded shoulders of her backpack, then headed across the street.

Would a theoretical person die if she threw herself out of a theoretical semi that was, in theory, doing sixty-five miles per hour on a shitty, theoretical Arizona back highway? Would that theoretical person care?

Every taxi company that worked the area had refused to drive her from Kingman to Coyote Trail, and she’d called them all. The one that had considered it backed out when she mentioned she’d provide payment upon arrival. Too dangerous to drive those roads this late in the afternoon without a guaranteed fare, they said. They wouldn’t arrive until after dark, and then the driver would be stuck, because no civilian would drive those roads at night. Then they wished her well and hung up before she